Spiders Stick Together
by Stardust16
Summary: After a "stabbing accident" as Spider-Man, Peter is injured and has to be kept under close watch. Unfortunately, nobody else is around and when Tony assigns him a spider-drone... well, things don't work out as well as he hoped. Rated T. Takes place in the Spider-Man: Homecoming universe. Edited by Brentinator.
1. Chapter 1

**Ah, guys, I can't beliebe I'm writing _another_ Spider-Man story. I'm really hoping I don't go overboard with posting stories and have it abandon them, 'cause I had to do that last year... And the yeah before that, and the year before that, so here's hoping I don't do that now. **

**But, back to the story. This was inspired by a few quotes I came up with for Happy and Peter involving Halloween ('Happy Halloween!' Get it? *frowns* No? Okay...) but then I started thinking about this similar idea I had that involved Peter/Tony and Peter getting a concussion, so add that with that and those... turned into this XD.**

 **Don't ask me how I thought of this, I just did. XD.**

 **Anyway, title and editing creds go to my friends, Jazmyn and Brentinator/Susz, in that order. I don't know how I'd be able to post without a little help every now and then, so a huge thank-you goes to them!**

 **Oh, and one more thing. This story included an OC AI (Original Character Artifical Intelligence).**

 **I know, I know, it sounds confusing. But, it's really not. All you guys need to know is that the AI's name in Spike and he's based off of the little spider-drone seen in Spider-Man: Homecoming. If anybody wishes to use him or mention him, go right ahead, but please ask me first. I've dealt with people who plagiarize stuff before and I'm really hoping that doesn't happen to my work, even if is something as small as just a spider-drone.**

 **But, for now... I think that's it for this little note. Enjoy, please, and feel free to read! :)**

* * *

"Come on, Mr. Stark, this is ridiculous!"

"No, it isn't, kid."

"—I'm Spider-Man, I don't need to be kept safe!"

"Tell that to the stab wound in your side."

"B-But I'm fine!" Peter protested as he begin to stand up from the medical bed, only for his mentor to push him down again. "I'm a superhero," He continued speaking. "I have super healing."

"The technical term is 'an advanced healing factor.'" Tony said as he smirked. "And you know what a synonym of advanced is, kid? Increased. Meaning that after your stupid spider bite, it increased and became more advanced than a normal human being's healing."

Peter cocked his head. "What, I'm not normal?"

Tony narrowed his eyes and Peter instantly laughed. "Have you ever been?"

"Okay, fair point," the apprentice agreed. "But I have a healing factor! I don't need some drone looking after me after I go back home!"

"You'll barely even notice they're there," the billionaire stated. "Besides," He then added. "It's better than leaving Karen or F.R.I.D.A.Y with you, only for you to just hack into the suit."

Peter sighed. "That was one time!" He cried.

" _Twice_."

"Twice times!"

"Okay," Peter had then taken a deep breath and continued. "But I am a responsible adult—"

"Try irresponsible adolescent and we'll see how that goes."

"—And I don't need some drone looking after me! I can handle it myself. May's gonna be back in a few days, too—"

"And how many more days?"

Peter bowed his head down in defeat. "Fourteen..."

"Exactly, kid. That's two weeks. You can't handle it, being by yourself."

"I can handle five robbers and a three grand theft autos in one night though!"

"Exactly what you _shouldn't_ be doing. Didn't I tell you to stay on the ground? Be a friendly-neighbourhood Spider-Man?"

"But I don't just wanna be a friendly-neighbourhood Spider-Man. I'm ready for more than that now!"

Tony rolled his eyes as he gestured the kid into the front seat of the car they'd be riding and driving. "Geez," He said sarcastically. "I wonder where I've heard _that_ before..."

"Before I took down the Vulture," Peter supplied, a smile laced on his face.

"And before the Staten Island ferry stunt. Remember that, 'Thor, son of Odin'?" Tony joked and Peter immediately groaned.

"Ugh, you _saw_ that?!" He ran a hand through his hair. His stab wound still stung in his side and, with his head spinning and the streets speeding by, it made him feel sick. When he heard of the 'Baby Monitor' protocol, well, she didn't think Tony would hear—or would even _care_ about—everything he said and did. "Oh, no..."

"Oh, _yes_." The billionaire smirked. Stopping now outside the apartment building, he had then reached over and unlocked the teen's door. "Anyway, this is your stop. You sure you're fine walking up?"

"...I got stabbed with a switchblade, not whacked by an axe."

"Doesn't matter, you were out of it for almost five hours. At the very least, you're gonna have a mild, maybe moderate, concussion and maybe even _brain damage_ if you fall asleep too early. You sure you don't want me to walk you up?"

"It's seven floors, not seven stories, Mr. Stark. I'll be fine."

"Close enough, but..." The billionaire seemed to stop and pause. "Fine. Call me if you need me, 'kay?"

The superhero stopped in his tracks, as he swung his suit-stuffed backpack over his shoulder. "What? What about Happy?" He asked, confused. "Won't he be lonely?"

"Happy's got stuff to do, he needs a break too." Taking something out of his pocket, he had then tossed it to the teen, who caught it perfectly. Unwrapping it, he noticed it was a phone number. But who's?

"That's my number, kid. Call me if you need anything, 'kay?"

Wait... he had _Tony Stark's_ phone number? _Well_...

"Kid?" Suddenly fingers snapped in front of his eyes and the spider-related hero instantly brought himself back to realize, his unsure eyes scanning his surroundings. Quietly, he closed his eyes again, but it was only for a minute before a hand started shaking his shoulder. "Kid, you alright? Peter?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine—I-I'm fine," The apprentice said, nodding his head. Unfortunately, that just made everything spin more as he began to get out of the car. "I'll be alright, Mr. Stark!" He called out as he began to open the door to the apartment building and as he did so, he slowly but surely watched the black Audi speed away. "Have a good night!"

Then, the doors opened, and he was gone.

* * *

 _"Come on, Mr. Stark, this is ridiculous!"_ Peter sighed as he replayed the scene in mind and wandered into his bedroom, sinking down in the sheets as soon as he could feel them beneath his skin. He did _not_ _need_ anyone worrying about him and did not _want_ to have anybody worrying about him anyway. If they did, well, they'd just get hurt...

Plus, it was almost nine at night. Kind of early, but since he'd gotten injured earlier, he'd been exhausted ever since. He just assumed it was from the blood loss though; he knew from experience that people could pass out due to it anyway, so it wasn't like his observations were _wrong_... Right?

Sighing slightly, then superhero had began to pull out his homework and, using his web shooters, turned on the light beside him. It burned his eyes slightly, but he _did_ have science tomorrow and _did_ need to get this done, so...

"Mr. Parker, you aren't supposed to stress yourself out with schoolwork," the spider-drone from the superhero's lamp stated as the little electronic robot—not-so-subtlety—sat on it, watching him work. It's British voice came through small speakers on the teen's desk, making him wince slightly at how hard the noise hit him. Did superheroes suffer from sensory overloads after getting stabbed? He didn't think so.

"I stress myself out all the time, Spike," the teen muttered and, yes, he did name his spider-drone Spike. He wasn't going to overthink the entire process like he did with Karen (he can't believe he actually thought about naming her Liz. Gosh, he was so embarrassed about it now, Mr. Stark, he figured, probably heard that too...) and, instead, just settled for something with alliteration. It was probably best, anyway. "Now makes no difference."

"I beg to differ, Mr—"

"Peter, please," the boy breathed as he ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed his head, his headache increasing. "Peter—Peter's fine, Spike."

"Most people who are 'fine', do _not_ speak in third person point of view."

The superhero smirked, turning over to face the small robotic object. "And most spider's don't have attitude," He snapped, a expression of exhaustion taking over his face.

You could almost sense the sarcasm in the robotic object. "You do," He then said. "And, speaking of things spider's don't usually do, I recommend you don't go to sleep, Mr. Park—Peter. At least, not for another eight hours."

"Spike..." the spider-related superhero groaned. "If I go to bed by that time, it'll be five and I'll either miss school or fall asleep in it completely and you _know_ I can't do that. I've already been late for the past three days, I'm walking on thin ice here."

"You walk on thin ice _everywhere_ , sir."

"Spike—" The teen said, in a disapproving tone of voice. "Do _not_ make me come over there and hack you, 'cause I _will_. I'll even call Ned right now if I have to."

"I do not recommend calling anybody with a concussion—"

"You also 'recommended.'" Peter used air quotes around this area. "That I do not fall asleep," He stated, as he slipped his shoes off, threw his homework across the room, and sunk back into his sheets.

"That's right, sir." The robotic-spider nodded, if possible, though that was probably because it was proud of how right it was. "I did."

"Mhmm..." Snapping off his web shooters with a _click!_ , the teen rested them on the table next to him. It wasn't like the spider could actually stop him from falling asleep. Heck, he did nothing besides crawl, talk and give crappy advice. "Too bad," He muttered, his eyes fluttering shut and head resting against the bedspread. "That I don't care..."

"Peter," the spider started and said boy immediately smiled to himself at the fact that the little robot was finally getting his name right. "I really don't recommend—"

"And I really don't care."

"Hurtful, sir."

Peter smirked, before sleep finally took over his features and, soon enough, he was out like a light. "So are you, Spike." He hummed, as he closed his eyes, his vision covered in darkness. "So are you."

* * *

 **Okay, one more thing I need to clarify; although Spike's personality has been created by me, as well as his name, I cannot take credit for where I got the idea to create the name and that's from Disney XD's _Lab Rats_. I don't know if anyone's seen it, but if you haven't, you should and I _definitely_ recommend it.**

 **Other than that, I think that's it.**

 **...For _now_.**

 **...What? Really guys? You actually thought I wouldn't write more? Come on, why wouldn't I? I love this story, just as much—maybe more—than my other ones and I already have some ideas for the second chapter. I'd be crazy _not_ to continue it!**

 **Anyway, that's all I have to say. Please let me know if you liked it in the reviews and if you _did_ like it, well, maybe drop me one or two? Or maybe click that tiny, barely noticeable follow/favourite ****button at the top of my profile?**

 **And, well, even if you didn't like it... uh, review too? Lol, I dunno, I can't really _make_ you.**

 **But, until next time, guys! Hope you liked this little chapter, I'll try and get the second done soon!**

 **~Star**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, guys, before I start this off, I'd like to say I have no clue what I'm doing XD.**

 **Not with the story, of course! No, I definitely know the direction this is gonna go in, I already have anything planned. But, what I don't know, is what happens to a person with brain damage.**

 **I did some research, though, and made a list of symptoms (sleep inability, light sensitivity, nausea, dizziness/disorientation, and vomiting), so hopefully I did okay.**

 **And, if I didn't... Well, let's pretend I did anyway!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"I don't see why _I_ have to do this," Happy grumbled, unhappily through the phone, as he wandered through the apartment complex and headed for Peter's place. "Or why I have to check on him. Last time I checked, he was your problem. Not mine."

 _"Ah, true, true." The billionaire smirked, as he sat and watched the hologram he made do his work for him. He'd been called in to a meeting with president of the US, but found it boring, so he excused himself and sent in a hologram instead. To put it shortly, he thought it was working perfectly. "But," He continued. "You work for me, so he's your problem too."_

Happy just scoffed as he made it to the doorway. "Please," He stated, sarcastically. "I wouldn't work for you if I didn't want to." Then, knocking on the door for a moment, he stopped and paused, as the room stayed silent. "Kid?" He questioned. "Come on, kid, open up!"

 _"What's going on?" The man asked as he set down his drink on the coffee table in front of him. He was in a casual coffee shop, but it was also small and quiet enough so that, hopefully, he wouldn't be recognized behind his sunglasses as he pulled up his Starkpad. "The kid not answering?" He questioned, curiously._

Trying the door handle, Happy sighed in annoyance and huffed when it seemed to be stuck. "Nope, door's not opening," He stated.

 _"Try the window then."_

"What?" Happy blinked in disbelief, his voice seeping with snark. "Why—Why would I try a window? There's thousands of them!"

 _"More like twenty of them, I'm sure, but that's not really the point. The kid can climb up walls, why can't you?"_

"Oh, I don't know." Happy rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he could be seen, but it didn't matter, as the latter could almost sense it through the other side. "Maybe because—and this is good—I'm not a superhero?"

 _"Ah." The billionaire shook his head. "Well, that could explain it. Anyway—" He tapped away on his Starkpad. "Trying picking the lock, or using the key under the carpet."_

Happy cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, I don't think that'll work—"

 _"Why not? I've done it—"_

"Of course, you have..."

 _"Specifically the kid's, but yeah," Iron Man answered, as if said answer should've been obvious. "What, you haven't?"_

"What—No!" Happy shook his head as he bent down and dug under the old rug, only to find a rusty, metal key. "That—That's not something normal people do," He defended himself as he fiddled with the object and lock, before walking into the apartment.

 _"Are you saying I'm not normal?"_

"What?! No..." Happy spoke, with his usual sardonic tone, as he scanned the apartment and his surroundings. Everything looked as if it usually did, but, then again, he knew to trust his instincts more often than not. Because—in reality—things felt... off.

That, and the complex was creepily quiet.

Not that it usually wasn't, of course, it was always quiet at the Parker residence, always has been, always was, it wasn't like Peter held parties every other weekend. But this, to put it lightly, was different.

Because, if Happy learned anything about the kid, it was he was anything but calm.

No, Peter was always happy and upbeat. No matter what, the kid was always jumping with joy and asking questions about anything and everything. And, if he was in a mission... Well, he wouldn't be running around in circles, but it was safe to say that'd he'd be running a lot, especially if it was on adrenaline.

So, he figured it was safe to say that if the kid had stayed awake for the eight hours, like instructed, he'd either be a), really exhausted or b), really excited.

...Which was why he was shocked when he found the kid sleeping under his Spider-Man sheets (yes, because if Tony didn't want the kid to reveal his identity, it made _perfect_ sense for the billionaire to give those as a gift), still in his sweater and shorts from the night before.

"Shit," the chauffeur whispered as he swiftly stepped closer to the sleeping superhero. It wasn't like he was worried that the kid was full-out dying, but he was sweating, shivering, and—as far as the former head of security could see—running a fever, which was enough to make him worried.

 _"What? What is it?"_ The other man asked from over the phone. He'd been so caught up with the kid, Happy'd almost forgotten he'd been talking to him. _"What happened, Hap? Is it the kid? I swear, I told him—"_

"To stay awake for eight hours?" Happy questioned as he tried to shake the superhero awake. So far, it wasn't working and, even if it was, all Peter did was groan and turn away, before he absentmindedly rolled on his side, so his back was now turned to man.

 _'Well.'_ Happy huffed. _'That was helpful.'_

"Because," the chauffeur spoke. "He definitely did _not_ do that."

"What?" The billionaire asked, confused. "Why? What'd he do?"

Happy sighed, as he put his head on his hands. He almost wanted to scream at the man (what else could a kid do to make a brain injury worse than before?), but, knowing it wouldn't help anything, he just shook his head instead.

"He freakin' fell asleep, that's what the kid did!" The chauffeur yelled, or, rather, wanted to. Scanning the room, he sighed before he spoke again. "Did you even send anything to monitor him?" He questioned, quickly.

 _Standing up from the bench, the billionaire shook his head, ignoring the inquiry that needed an answer. "Doesn't matter right now," He demanded. "I don't care what you have to do, Hap, but get the kid to the compound, 'kay? I'll be there as fast as I can."_

Then, hanging up immediately, Stark left the small shop, leaving Happy, back in Queens, to collect the kid and head to the car.

* * *

Peter wakes up on the way there.

Not that Happy should be worried—hell, he should be glad—but he is. Because, if there's one thing he's learned from being attacked by the Mandarin, it's that people don't just wake up from their injuries immediately.

Nope, he's smart enough to know that's not how it worked for him back then and, unless Peter's somehow just magically recovered from falling asleep with a head injury for past eleven hours, that's not how it works now.

"Kid?" He calls out, as they suddenly stopped at a stop light. For once, Peter's actually sitting in the passenger's seat, instead of the back, so the chauffeur can actually look at him, without having to turn around and take his eyes off the road. "You okay?" He questions, concerned, as he moves to look at the teen, but doesn't move to take his hands off the wheel.

But Peter doesn't answer. In fact, he doesn't even move. All he does is tilt his head against the seat, rests his eyes and mumbles something along the lines of "Where are we...?"

And, as the light suddenly changes from red to green, so does Happy's expression, as Peter doesn't even seem to have heard his question. It doesn't matter though, because even if Peter doesn't answer his, he'll answer Peter's. "Car," He replies, as the boy glances out the window and looks at all the stores they're driving by. "Boss wants me to bring you to the compound."

"Compound?" The superhero questions and then, as a green car speeds by, Peter's face turns the same colour as the shade and, although Happy isn't sure whether it's because of motion sickness, or dizziness, or the fact that he doesn't know where he is, he pulls over anyway.

And then Peter's pouring the contents of his stomach out on an empty sidewalk.

"You okay?" Happy asks after a minute and, as he does, Peter can tell he's concerned. He would be too, to be honest, if the situation they were in were vice-versa and he had to watch somebody act as dizzy and ill as he'd been right then.

Still, he responds. He responds as as a tiny "No," leaves his lips and although it's only one word, one word's better than nothing.

It's not just one word for long, though. Soon, it structures itself into one sentence.

"I-I wanna g-go home..."

But, although him saying something for once is better, that doesn't mean his appearance is. No, the kid still looks sick, as light—but visible, oh-so-clearly visible—bags sit below his eyes, as sweat sparkles on his forehead. Not only that, but he looks dizzy, just as disoriented, maybe more, as his eyes are, flickering all over the place, as they scan each face and shape.

The chauffeur sighs. "I know," He speaks slowly, emphasizing each word to make sure the superhero hears him, but it doesn't even look like he does. "But you can't, 'kay? So I'm gonna get you into the car and then we're gonna get you to the compound."

The kid only looks up at him, confused. "C-C-Compound?" He questioned, curiously and his eyes concussed.

 _'And crap,'_ Happy thinks. Because if the kid already forgot about that—an event that took place–like what?—a month ago—then he might as well have forgotten about being Spider-Man.

"Yeah, the compound," He repeats as he grabs the kid's waist, before he shifts his arm over his shoulders and gets the boy back into the black Audi. "You know, the Avengers, the internship; it's all upstate." Happy stated as he quickly opened the car door and slid into the seat next to the teen. "This ringing any bells, kid?"

"What? N-No..." Peter spoke slowly as he shook his head, but immediately stopped once his vision started blurring again. "I-I don't..." His eyes suddenly snapping shut, so did the teen's vision, as well, as everything else around him. "Know..." He finished.

* * *

 **Okay, you guys have no clue how much I rewrote this. I created like, four or five different drafts (one with Ned, one with Spike, one with Michelle, and finally one with Happy) before I finally settled on this one and, truth to be told, I'm pretty happy with it XD. (Yes, pun's intended)**

 **So, hopefully you guys are too.**

 **But, before I go, I'd like to credit KatTheGracefulKlutz and EmeraldTulip for [kinda] helping me out, even though they kinda didn't XD.**

 **Doesn't matter though, it's the thought that counts!**

 **And I'd also like to credit, Brentinator, my editor. She's an amazing person, with amazing editing skills, and I really recommend you check out her works after this XD.**

 **Until next time, guys!**

 **~Star**


End file.
